


Volare

by susanowa (panickyintheuk)



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Future Fic, Hopeful Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-12 14:11:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9075313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panickyintheuk/pseuds/susanowa
Summary: It's the 20th anniversary of the formation of the Avengers (by SOME people's reckoning, anyway), and that means a party. Steve wants to talk to Tony, Victor has his own agenda, and a room full of superheroes is bound to attract a crisis.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For square S4 on my bingo card, '20th anniversary'.
> 
> This could use a bit of refining, but bingo deadline is coming up and I have lots of other things I need to work on too, so I hope you'll enjoy anyway!
> 
> For the purposes of this fic, 20 years after the formation of the Avengers is roughly 7-8 years after current canon, so plenty of things have changed in that time. I'll let you fill in the blanks for yourself.
> 
> Spoiler-ish for current 616 continuity, but doesn't go into too much detail.

"When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return."  
— Attributed to Leonardo da Vinci

*

"Happy twentenary!" chirped Kamala, sweeping into the kitchen. Tony jumped and nearly choked on his coffee. He grimaced.

"Congratu-horrible. Aren't you a writer?"

"Sure, when I'm not busy saving the world, and/or New Jersey. You looking forward to tonight?"

"Oh, yeah. What recovering alcoholic doesn't love partying it up with a bunch of people who barely tolerate them?"

Kamala sighed. "Tony, we've all been through a lot of complicated stuff over the years – you more than most, I know, but _all of us_. Maybe the odd person still holds a grudge about this or that, but the amount of love and respect there's going to be in that room for you is infinite. Double that, once Doreen shows up."

He reached over and ruffled her hair. She slapped his hand away with a slightly enlarged palm and scowled at him. "You're a good kid," he said – a little to rile her up, but mostly because, even though he'd known her for about eight years now, she still seemed impossibly young – "but I don't think so. Anyway, I still refuse to accept the legitimacy of this date."

"Right, right, because even though it was on this day that you fought Loki, formed a team _and_ came up with the name, you weren't a _real_ team until you found Original Flavor Captain America." She rolled her eyes. "Speaking of, dare we hope that you and Steve might finally get your act together tonight?"

"Steve has his act together."

"Don't pretend you don't know what I mean."

He tried to hide how much it hurt when she brought this stuff up. He got it; the kids had grown up with them as larger-than-life romantic figures, not quite real people, and had gotten ideas into their heads that had stuck. But they hadn't been there for all the – everything, and maybe sometimes, in their enthusiasm, forgot that there were real feelings at stake behind the narratives they'd dreamed up. "Kam, come on. If it were going to happen, don't you think it would have happened by now?"

"Well, do you think you might make friends again, at least?" she asked him.

"We are friends," he said uncomfortably.

"Really? When was the last time you talked?"

"I don't know, his birthday?"

"And before that, let me guess – your birthday?"

Tony winced. "Alright, Kam, I get the picture." It was something of a sore spot, actually. He'd had to hear about Steve and Sharon's recent divorce second hand, through Sam. That had stung. But he got it. It was just a lot easier to deal with when he didn't have to talk about it.

*

Tony might not be in his element at parties these days, but it was easy enough to go through the motions. Put on the tux, slick back the hair, put on a smile and do the rounds. Be charming and just the right amount of flirtatious, flattering but not pushy or sleazy or threatening. He faltered a little, though, when he saw Steve across the room, and before he could let his gaze casually pass on, they'd made eye contact. He smiled and raised a hand, half-expecting Steve to smile back, nod politely, carry on making conversation with Kate, but instead Steve seemed to be making distracted excuses to her, not taking his eyes off Tony. He watched as Steve extricated himself and made a beeline towards him. So, this was happening.

"Tony," Steve said when he reached him, sounding intense and a little nervous. "It's good to see you."

"You too," said Tony. He was tempted to be glib, keep things superficial, but Steve deserved better. "Listen, I heard about you and Sharon. I'm sorry. How are you doing?"

Steve shook his head. "It's okay. We're both better off this way, I think. I guess we just realized that being really good friends, and making a good team, wasn't the same thing as being in love." He paused for a moment. "It turns out that I've got those two confused before," he added, with a significant note in his voice.

Tony frowned, trying to figure out what he might mean (unless it was a reference to some other aspect of Steve's life that Tony had missed out on over the last ten years or so). Before he could ask, though, Victor appeared at his side.

"There you are," he said, putting an arm across Tony's back and resting it lightly on his hip. So much for discretion. Whatever – it was pretty much an open secret among the current team anyway, and Tony didn't care too much. Once upon a time he'd had a big company to keep afloat and lots of people's jobs to worry about, but that was a long time ago, and he hadn't been very good at being respectable even then.

"Here I am," he replied.

"I was hoping you might dance with me?" Victor said softly, sounding almost sweet. Tony raised his eyebrows. The 'attentive date' act wasn't fooling him; Victor was up to something, as usual, and Tony wasn't in the mood for it. He knew that Tony didn't get a lot of chances to talk to Steve, and ought to know better than to interrupt when they'd barely got started. And that wasn't even taking into account the weirdness of them doing something that might be seen as some kind of declaration, in front of all these people, considering the nebulous nature of their relationship.

"Later," he said, because, despite all that, he wouldn't actually mind a dance, and it would be nice to have an exit strategy if things went south. "Would you get me a drink first? Tonic water, ice and lime?"

Victor's eyes narrowed a fraction, but only for a second. "Of course," he said pleasantly. "Anything for you, Captain?"

"No, thank you," said Steve stiffly. Not everyone was happy that Victor had been invited to this party – Tony guessed he could add Steve to that list. It seemed unfair that Victor didn't get the benefit of the doubt that, say, Wanda or Clint did, but Tony had given up on people being fair a long time ago.

Victor nodded smoothly and walked away, letting his hands ghost over Tony's ass as he went. Tony watched him go for a few seconds, mostly out of habit, then turned back to Steve.

"So," said Steve, "are you two..."

"Sometimes," Tony admitted.

"Nobody told me," said Steve, looking and sounding slightly lost.

"It's not really important," said Tony, feeling vaguely disloyal as he said it – but it was true. Kamala called them 'frenemies with benefits', which was horrendous, but pretty much captured the essence of this thing he and Victor did. It wasn't the kind of thing you made an announcement about, it just... happened, sometimes.

"I guess it makes sense," Steve said, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Is that right," Tony said flatly, with the distinct feeling he was about to be insulted.

"He's one of the only people who could keep up with you," Steve said. "You leave most of us in the dust."

"That's not –" Tony started, but was cut off by the sound of smashing glass. He couldn't make out the shape that flew in through the now-broken window before Steve stepped in front of him protectively – then Victor's hand was clasped around his wrist, and they blinked out of the room.

"What is this?" Tony snapped when he found his feet again. They were in one of Victor's workshops. "Did you plan this?"

"No," said Victor. "I only thought we ought to get our armor."

"My best suits aren't here."

"Mine are. And the suits of yours that _are_ here at least get regular maintenance."

"You still maintain my – never mind," said Tony, starting to don one of his armors as Victor did the same. "What was that about, before, anyway?"

"I don't like that idiot sniffing around you. He had a thousand chances with you, and he squandered them all. If he was fool enough not to realize what he could have had, then he doesn't deserve it now. Especially now. And the way he stepped in front of you, as though you were a pathetic civilian who cannot take care of himself!"

"I'm sorry, are you talking about _Steve_? You've imagined you're in some kind of competition with him? That's ridiculous. And I didn't have my suit, as you obviously noticed – "

"You never have been a good judge of how much people care about you, Tony,” said Victor, wistfulness coloring his voice for a moment. Then he was back to business: “Open your faceplate."

"Why?"

"Because I need skin-to-skin contact to take you back with me, and it's much easier than us each taking off a gauntlet."

Deciding that getting back to the party was more important than this infuriating conversation that Victor clearly wasn't interested in continuing, Tony raised his faceplate. Victor leaned in and kissed him, not stopping until they were back in the room.

"That was a shitty thing to do, Victor," Tony muttered. "That skin-to-skin thing is bullshit, isn't it?" Victor shrugged. Tony glared at him and went over to Steve. "What's the situation, Cap?" he asked, then took in Steve's face. "Are you hurt?"

Steve stared at him for a second, mouth slightly parted, before answering. "I'm not injured," he said. Tony watched as he visibly snapped into the old familiar Cap mode. "The party crashers are young Inhumans. It's slow going because Emma says they're mind-controlled, so nobody wants to hurt them. Well, almost nobody. Namor's been escorted out."

Tony snorted. "Minimal force, got it." He turned to Victor. "You hear that?" Victor's expression was the picture of innocence, which was always a worry. "Anything else? Any idea who's behind it?"

"No. Whoever it is, they've included kids whose powers can nullify or reverse energy, so they counteract our heaviest hitters to some degree. They're still not too much of a challenge, it's just going to take a while to get them all contained and figure out what to do with them. Makes me wonder if it's a diversion, or some kind of test. I doubt whoever's behind this is stupid enough to think they could actually take out nearly every Avenger ever all at once."

Tony exchanged glances with Victor. If they could nullify energy, the suits' weapons would be of limited use, but using those was risky anyway if they didn't want to inflict too much damage. But at least nobody would have to worry about protecting Tony, now; and the suit was more than just a weapon – it was a computer, too.

"Is the mind control magical in nature?" Victor asked.

"I don't know," said Steve tightly. "And we already have several powerful telepaths and magic users working on it, so there's no need to – "

Victor held his hand up imperiously. "I shall investigate," he said.

"Okay, have fun," said Tony. That should keep him out of trouble for a bit, anyway. "Sounds like we don't need everyone in the fight – we'll just get in each other's way, anyway, half of these guys have never worked together before and there are enough to raise a barn. How about I see if I can figure out if there's something going on that this is supposed to be distracting us from?"

Steve nodded. "Is your armor up to scratch?"

"Uh, yeah," said Tony. Victor had been busy, apparently. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. "I can monitor police and military broadcasts, and run a scan for any suspicious devices within range."

"Good. You team up with Vision and Riri on that, it'll go faster. Another team can do a physical sweep of the building."

"And some of the other flyers could fan out and get an aerial view of the city."

"Good call," said Steve.

Tony hesitated. "Well," he said, "I'll go ask Riri and Vision, but you better tell the others the plan, they'll listen to you."

Steve gave him a strange look, and seemed as if he might be about to say something, but they didn't have time to hash it out right now. Tony went to gather up his team.

*

A couple of hours later, they'd contained the kids and Emma had broken the mind control. She hadn't managed to trace who was behind it, though, and Tony's team hadn't had any more luck on the 'why'. Lockjaw had fetched Medusa, who was going to deal with them from this point onwards. It had all gone cleanly enough, as these things went – no casualties, no major injuries. Barely any injuries at all. It was frustrating that they didn't have answers, but with any luck, they had a little time to figure those out.

Tony couldn't deny that it felt good to be back in the suit again – but he didn't want to dwell on that, and luckily, his HUD was blinking with a convenient distraction.

"I have a bunch of missed calls from Amanda," he told Victor and Steve, both of whom had made an immediate beeline for him once everything had wound down. "I should let her know I'm okay."

He placed the call through his armor, and Amanda answered almost immediately.

"Tony!" she said. "I saw on the news your party got crashed. Is it over?"

"No, I'm calling you mid-battle. Wanted to get your input on some tactical – "

"Oh, shut up," she said, cutting him off. "I'll take that as 'don't worry, I'm fine, thank you for your concern.'"

"Yeah, that's what I meant. What were you doing up, anyway? What time is it there?"

"Late. But I couldn't sleep. Had a feeling something like this would happen – put enough superheroes in the same room and somebody's bound to get ideas. Who was it, by the way?"

"Still working on that one. But they were using kids."

"Some real bastard, then."

"Couldn't have put it better."

"It said on the radio that it looked like an original Iron Man armor made an appearance, along with Riri and Victor's models..."

"Yeah, well, you can thank Victor for that."

"Is he there?"

Tony looked over his shoulder. "Yeah," he said. Steve was still hanging around, too, which was a little awkward.

"Give him my love, won't you?"

"Sure."

"You'll forget. Do it now, so I can hear you."

"Ugh," said Tony under his breath, and took a few steps towards him. "My mom says hi," he said.

"That's not what I said," Amanda corrected him.

"Wow, okay. My mom wants me to _give you her love_ , and apparently the wording is crucial."

Victor smiled, and it was an odd mixture of smug and touched. "Thank you. Please do give her mine."

"He says same."

"He said 'same'?"

"What is it with you two and semantics?"

"I suppose I'll take it. Tony, it might have four letters, but it's not actually a dirty word, you know."

"I know, I just..." his eyes strayed to Steve, who could definitely hear every word they were saying, and looked excruciatingly uncomfortable. Tony wasn't sure why he didn't just go somewhere else – presumably he had something he needed to tell Tony. Tony really ought to let him get it over with. "Look, it's way past your bedtime. I won't keep you."

"All right. Look after yourself."

"Will do. Love you." _See, I can say it_ , he thought childishly.

"Love you too, sweetheart." She rang off, and he turned away from Victor and towards Steve.

"Steve," he said, taking a few steps toward him, "did you need –" but Victor was following him, taking his arm again.

"Tony," he said, "come outside with me. I need to speak with you in private for a moment."

Tony sighed. "Won't be long," he told Steve, and walked out with Victor, onto the mansion's long driveway.

"I really was hoping to dance with you tonight," Victor said, "but it seems that this is not our evening. I'm leaving now. Go and make your mistakes. Get them out of your system. It will blow up in your faces, and I will be there to pick up the pieces. I might be a proud man, but I'm not too proud to wait for you to come back to me." He kissed Tony again, with teeth – Tony was surprised that he didn't taste blood, afterward.

"Victor, what are you talking about?" he called, frustrated in more ways than one, as Victor shot up into the air. He didn't expect a response, and he didn't get one.

He watched the sky for a little longer. Victor's shape shrank into the distance, but it was Tony who felt small. He could go after him, but there was Steve. He ought to go back and see what he wanted. Anyway, Victor was a drama queen – whatever this was would blow over. It'd be fine. Not that they were even – whatever. It was fine.

He started walking back towards the mansion, but as he got closer he realized that Steve was already there, in the shadows of the doorway. He paused, frowning, and Steve stepped forward to meet him.

"I wasn't listening," Steve said quickly. "I just wanted to make sure I didn't miss you."

"I said I'd be back."

"Yeah," said Steve, looking at his feet. "I know. Just wanted to make sure."

Tony sat on the step, and Steve sat next to him. "You wanted to say something?"

"I did," said Steve, equivocally. "Well, and it's been a long time, it feels like. You hardly look any different, though."

"Really? Well, between the time I had Extremis and spending a year dead for tax purposes, I guess –" Steve flinched. "Anyway, you're one to talk," said Tony, moving swiftly on from that particular can of worms. "You don't age."

Steve shrugged one shoulder. "Got it all out of my system in one go, I guess," he said, striving for lightness and not quite making it. "Seriously, I have aged, though. I feel it."

"Yeah? It doesn't show. I _definitely_ feel it. And I'm going gray! You must have noticed that." 

Steve looked him over, then his gaze darted away. "It's a while since I've seen you in the armor."

"Yeah, well, I'm not coming out of retirement or anything."

"From what I hear, you still maintain all the team's equipment and stay on comms half the time. Doesn't exactly sound retired to me."

"Oh, that doesn't count, that's just pitching in. Getting suited up was Victor's idea. Sorry about him, by the way, he's not usually – he's got some macho posturing thing going on, I don't know." Tony looked uncomfortably at his hands. Should he have gone after him? This was so stupid.

"It's okay,” said Steve. “I understand. If it was me – " he shook his head. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Do you think you could take me flying again? I never felt anything else like it, and... well, we hardly ever get to see each other these days, and I don't know when you'll be in the armor again, so I..."

"Hey, sure. That's no problem." Tony got to his feet, thanking the armor for supporting him on the way. His joints were starting to get creaky. He held a hand out to Steve, who probably didn't need it, but took it anyway. "Climb aboard."

Steve looked strangely nervous as he stepped onto Tony's boot, but it really had been a long time. Tony waited longer than he would have done in the old days to make sure Steve had a good grip, since they were both out of practice, and then he took off at speed – straight up at first, then spinning, working up to a loop. He felt Steve shaking, and took a look at his face, but it was okay – he was laughing.

It felt good to be up in the air. Tony felt the tension begin to filter out of him. Maybe he ought to do this more often, just for fun, but – it was a slippery slope, wasn't it? It wasn't like drinking, nothing was like drinking, but. It might not be totally different, either.

"Put the faceplate up?" Steve said after a while. They were moving at a more sedate pace, now, the city lights laid out beneath them like a carpet of stars.

"Sure," said Tony, a little surprised, and popped it open.

Steve pulled back enough to look at him intently for a second. "Just... good that it's you in there. Like old times," he said. 

"Yeah," said Tony, suddenly uncomfortable. Those old times were a long way behind them now. When was the last time they'd done this? Things had been wrong between them longer than they'd ever been right. "Hey, let me close it again so we can go really fast for a bit, okay? You can take the Gs better than I can."

Steve swallowed and averted his eyes. "Okay," he said.

Tony maybe dragged it out a little – well, Steve had asked him, after all – but you had to come down some time. He touched down on the hangar. Steve was breathless and kind of flushed, almost like he'd just had really good sex – an expression Tony was pretty familiar with, but not on Steve, of course.

"Hey, I didn't realize you liked flying so much. I know you never wanted your own armor or anything, but I could fix you up something, like – "

"It's not just the flying," Steve interrupted him. “Tony, about Doom, I wanted to say, don't be too hard on him, because. If it was me, and you'd chosen me, and he was looking at you the way I was, and you – I'd be the same way. And of course he wants to kiss you and dance with you and, and show off that you chose him, and – just for the sake of doing those things. I didn't know, I was going to tell you tonight, but then – well, I've told you now anyway. I couldn't help it, I'm sorry."

Tony stared at him. So there it was. And after all these years. People had tried to tell him, hadn't they? But he had never believed it; he'd protected himself from it – from the hope of it. Hope could break you, lift you up too high and then drop you without warning. So he hadn't let himself. 

"But, Steve,” he said, his voice somehow seeming far away, “I didn't choose him over you. I didn't even know that you were an option."

Steve scrubbed at his eyes, though they were dry. "Took me a long time to figure it out myself – and quite a lot of therapy."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "I didn't think you were the type for non-mandatory therapy."

"Neither did I, but, well... Sharon and I did couples counseling before we finally decided to call it quits, and then I carried on with it on my own."

 _So that would make it singles counseling,_ Tony thought, and determinedly did not say. "Hey, good for you," he said instead, absolutely meaning it. Hell, if there was a superhero out there who didn't need a little counseling, Tony hadn't met them.

"Tony," Steve said, sounding raw, "would you mind not changing the subject, please? I shouldn't have said anything, but it's out there now, so we should at least talk about it."

"Sorry, I wasn't – I didn't mean to. I mean, I'm sure you must know how I feel about you, it's never been much of a secret."

"Why don't you tell me, rather than us assuming things?"

"Well, I... I was always in love with you. Everybody knows that."

Steve's face did something complicated – his eyes widened, his eyebrows raised, but his jaw tightened. "And now?"

"I don't know, Steve! It's been a long time."

Steve nodded slowly. "And you're with Victor now." There was a painful-sounding click in his throat.

"That's not..." Tony tried to say, again, that it wasn't important, but now that the stakes were higher he couldn't bring himself to. It was important enough – clearly important to Victor, at least, and he found that that mattered to him. "I think Victor broke up with me," he said instead.

"What?"

"I guess he saw this coming. Said it would blow up in our faces. He's probably right."

"Probably," Steve agreed, wide eyes searching his face.

"But then again," said Tony, "when has that ever stopped me before?"

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this when I thought Tony was going to die, but I don't want to lose the line, and I figure Tony would still use it. Close enough for jazz.
> 
> [That Look You Give That Guy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wREjT7DlI7M) by Eels is a fun song to listen to with this fic in mind IMO!


End file.
